Ain't As Bad As They Look
by trinkierae
Summary: Daryl's past is finally brought to the present. It is a chance for him to build new relationships if he can face his past.


Sasha and Daryl walked the fences together. Everyday, rain or shine-checking for weakness, breaks...anything that threatened the integrity of the supports or the fence itself.

They walked together through the ASZ early mornings before Sasha went to the watch playroom and before Daryl went out with Rick or whoever was going on a run. Sometimes, he went out for a hunt or just to put walkers down. Sometimes, Sasha went with him.

The morning she saw his scars for the first time, they were just following the same routine as always. It was a day like so many others, normal; as normal as days could be with corpses walking among the living. They walked and Sasha talked and talked...Daryl loved to listen to her non-stop chatter. They came to a place on the fenceline that was overgrown with ivy, westeria, and other climbing plants. Daryl and Sasha started to pull some of the foliage away...can't have too much, it would damage the wooden supports, too much cover for intruders. To remove the vines, Daryl had to adjust and finally remove his crossbow. When he did, his vest hitched up enough to expose his back... and his scars...just as Sasha turned to help him pull down some of the vines...she saw what was under his vest.

"Damn, this shit wasn't like this a couple days ago," Daryl said in annoyance. "Grew up overnight."

She went silent...he almost immediately knew she had seen his back...his scars. He straightened up and returned his crossbow to his shoulder. He didn't turn around to face her, he couldn't.

"Ain't as bad as they look. Was a long time ago," he said.

When he heard her suck in a deep breath he turned around. She was crying. When he saw the tears, it was like a fist to his gut.

"What the hell?", he said. "Don't look at me like that," he said, harsher than he intended. "Don't need no tears, 'specially from you. To avoid her gaze, he looked up into sky and softened his tone, "Don't cry...I...it ain't worth yer tears, Sasha." That declaration caused Sasha to choke back a sob. She folded her lips together and blinked rapidly in an attempt to stop the tears. Daryl took a couple of steps backward, shook his head, turned and walked away from her. It was too much.

Sasha had no voice to call after him. The tears rolled down her cheeks and her breath came in sharp inhales. After a few minutes and the appearance of more people on the streets of the community, she used the heels of her palms to wipe her face and headed to the watch platform, all the while praying no one asked her what was wrong or why she was crying.

Later, when her shift was over, she returned to Rick's house. It was strange how she started staying at Rick's house with Daryl-and, to her and almost everyone else, she was there with Daryl. Rick thought and said so, and if he thought so, then, it was so. It just happened-she just started to sleep in his room. He didn't touch her, never; she slept in his bed, he slept on the floor. At night, he used a blanket to make a pallet next to the bed and she slept as close to the edge as she could. Then, she talked and he listened. On rare occassions, he would contribute an "uh-huh", " yeah", or a "nah" to her stories about the day or what was on tap for them for the next day. Mostly, he lay on the floor and listened to her voice in the dark. For him, the sound of her voice as she drifted closer to sleep...the dreaminess, the way she sighed or yawned, the fact that her voice lowered an octave when she said his name behind the darkness, made their conversations very intimate. He didn't do well with intimacy, she knew that, and it was never something they talked about. It was the way things were with them. It was a delicate arrangement and she did not want him to back away from her. "He is not interested in sex," she thought. "That's okay...I don't want him to think I expect him to want me that way...it's okay. The world is not how it was. I get it."

That evening, Sasha ate with Carl, Judith, and Michonne. She ate because she had to; food could not be wasted. Daryl and Rick were not back yet and the day could not end until they were. She and Michonne had deepening, easy friendship and she had come to love Carl and Judith. Michonne could tell something was bothering Sasha. After attempting to swallow more than a mouthful or two of food, Sasha gave up on eating. She went over to the sink to wash her plate and utensils. After about three or four minutes of washing the plate, Michonne decided to ask her what was wrong.

Carl and Judith left the kitchen after Michonne handed the baby to Carl. "I'll come get you in a minute, JuJu Bee," Michonne said as she stroked the baby's hair. Turning her attention to Sasha she spoke: "Sasha, what's the matter? You seem a little sad. What's wrong?", Michonne asked

in a quiet, gentle tone.

Sasha knew that Rick and Daryl were like brothers and that Michonne and Daryl were also extremely close. She often thought if Michonne wasn't with Rick, she would have been with Daryl. He was one of only a few people who Michonne would die to protect. They had all been together before she and Tyrese had found their group at the prison. The love between that core group had spread to the rest of their family, but everyone knew that Rick and Michonne and Carl and Judith and Daryl were a set. She was happy they allowed her to squeeze in, she loved them all.

Sasha was reluctant to say...she was sure Rick had probably seen what she saw earlier that day, they were men, after all. But Sasha wasn't so sure about Michonne...or what she should say to her about what she had seen. " Daryl would be hurt if I said something to her; the two of them are so...the 'two of them'," she thought. She didn't want to pretend with Michonne, so she said in a pained voice, "Daryl...I'm worried."

"He say something? Do something?", she asked.

Sasha shook her head and teared up. She gave Michonne a pained look and closed her eyes. The two women embraced and Michonne whispered in Sasha's ear, " Don't let him scare you, he doesn't mean to and he doesn't want you to be scared of him. He's just afraid of what it means if he loves you and lets you love him. It will be okay." Sasha couldn't help it, she started to cry after the words Michonne said. Just as she let the tears flow, Rick and Daryl walked in. She turned away from them as Michonne attemted to block her from their view while she composed herself.

Michonne walked over to Rick and greeted him with a kiss. Daryl looked at Sasha and walked right back out of the house. Rick gave Michonne a look which she returned, immediately shutting down any questions on his part. They could say ten things to each other with one look. He directed his attention to Carl and Judith, knowing Michonne would tell him about anything that affected their family or required his input; there was nothing secret between them. Sasha left the kitchen and went upstairs.

Sasha showered and put on her tank and sleep pants. It was one of the best things about being in Alexandria; not having to sleep completely dressed, including shoes. Wearing real pjays was a pleasure she did not take for granted...it was pure joy to take a hot shower and put on clean pjays and crawl into a warm, soft, and clean bed. As she sat on the edge of the bed rubbing lotion on her arms and, then, her feet, she worried Daryl would wait until she was asleep before coming into their room...or not come in at all. He did that sometimes. Since it had gotten warmer, he sometimes slept outside on the porch. He said he had slept in way worse places than on a porch. She closed her eyes and sent him a silent message: "Come inside. Come and rest...sleep...it's okay. Come inside."

Sasha was exhausted. The strain of worry had drained her. She lay down on top of the covers and pulled Daryl's blanket over her tired body. It smelled like him...sweat, cigarettes, and the woods. She tucked her nose under his blanket and breathed him in...and waited. After an hour or so she heard voices,Daryl's and Rick's. The rest of the house's occupants had gone to bed...the baby was asleep, Carl was in his room, and Michonne had left Rick and Daryl to enjoy the pleasure of a hot bath. She quickly refolded his blanket and returned it to the foot of the bed. She slid under the covers and closed her eyes, trying to slow her now quick breathing.

Daryl entered the bedroom quiet!y, in case Sasha was asleep. He knew she wouldn"t be; that she would be awake and waiting for him to come in. He grabbed his blanket, spread it out, lay down and covered himself with one half of his pallet. They both lay awake in the dark in silence. When Sasha was afraid she'd fall asleep without acknowledging what had happened that morning, even though she knew he didn't want her to, she spoke to him.

"Daryl?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

"I'm talkin' ta ya."

"You know what I mean."

"No, Sasha, I'm not 'sleep."

"Why?"

"Why, what?

"Why aren't you asleep? What's wrong?"

"Nothin's wrong, jus' listenin'...waitin' for you ta go." Daryl had been lying awake listening; waiting to hear Sasha's breath even out in sleep.

"Did your daddy do that to you?", she asked. " You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I understand."

Daryl took a deep breath before he answered, but he did answer: "Yeah.", and nothing more. It was a struggle to get out that one syllable. Each word of the question felt like a punch to his gut. He held his breath for what she would say, ask, do, next.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry he did that to you."

"Ya don't need ta be."

"I know; but I am, though. I hate that he did that to you. I'm sorry."

"Don't matter no more...was a long time ago."

"Well, I hate it...that he did that to you. I want it, you, to be okay, to be better...you know? You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Is it?...is it okay...better?"

"Yeah, it is...I am...better."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Go ta sleep."

"O. K., good night."

"Good night."

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"It does matter...It matters to me."

Sasha closd her eyes and was asleep almost instantly. He placed his forearm over his eyes and listened to the rhythm of her breathing. After a few minutes, he too, was asleep.


End file.
